


Imagine

by 8thCyn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Imagine - John Lennon, Jack's Paradise, s15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22140436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8thCyn/pseuds/8thCyn
Comments: 7
Kudos: 8





	Imagine

**May 2019**

Castiel leaned back against the wall; the painted cement blocks of the gymnasium were still cool, despite the large group of frightened people gathered inside. He closed his eyes. Angels don’t sleep, so neither did he, but he was exhausted from the sheer enormity of the situation; depleted in strength of body and mind.

The fear that radiated off every human in the building was overwhelming. It had been three days. They hadn’t bathed, and a rancid smell of body odor hung in the air. Some of the other hunters Sam called had been bringing in food, but they couldn’t keep it up. And no doubt the real FBI, or some other government agency, would show up at any moment and blow their cover. 

That was if Balphegor’s spell even lasted that long. It was already weakening, minute by precious minute.

And they still didn’t know if more demons and spirits had escaped Hell from different locations. They were fighting a losing battle, and they all knew it, even if they didn’t say it.

 _How could I have been so wrong?_ he wondered. The images that Jack - his son, by heart if not by grace - had shown him from the womb, had been so exhilarating. In those brief seconds he had seen Paradise on Earth. And Jack was going to be the one to bring it forth.

Now Jack was dead, and there was no way to save him this time. No soul magic, no deals with a cosmic entity. His body had been tortured and burned from the inside out by God himself. Jack’s grandfather, who up until that time had taken no interest at all in his favorite son’s son, had destroyed him for no reason other than pure spite and malice.  
There would be no Paradise on Earth. They would be lucky if they could somehow manage to prevent Hell taking over the Earth entirely.

Hearing humming nearby, he opened his eyes to see from where it came. Scanning the general area his gaze came to rest on a girl, about 11 or 12 perhaps, who was humming to a little boy who was resting against her, crying quietly. The melody was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. 

And then she started to sing.

_“Imagine there’s no Heaven,_  
_It’s easy if you try._  
_No Hell below us,_  
_Above us only sky…”_

His shoulders slumped and tears moistened his face, but he took a deep breath and walked over to the children. Despite being an angel, he knew that he didn’t have a voice that anyone would call angelic, but in that moment it didn’t matter. He sat down beside them and joined in.

_“Imagine there’s no countries,_  
_It isn’t hard to do;_  
_Nothing to kill or die for,_  
_And no religion too.”_

The next line caught in his throat, but he kept going:

_“Imagine all the people, living life in peace…”_

Would there ever be peace? Would there even be a world to have peace in the first place, if they couldn’t get the escaped souls back into Hell and close the rift? He had no idea. They had bounced around so many ideas that at this point if someone suggested pushing them back into Hell with a Whack-a-Mole mallet they might consider it.

They continued the song, and soon the weary little boy was fast asleep. Cas carefully placed his folded-up trench coat under the boy’s head for him to use as a pillow.

His sister was still awake, and staring out the window, but after a moment she turned and gave Cas a searching look. “Are we going to be able to go home soon?” she asked.

Castiel had never gotten the hang of lying; every time he tried, Sam or Dean, whomever was near enough to hear him, would roll their eyes and try to cover for him. But neither of them was nearby. He didn’t want to scare the little girl, but he felt like by lying to her - badly - he would only make it worse.

“I don’t know,” he said, the only truthful words he could muster.

“I miss my bedroom, and my bed,” she said.

“I can understand that,” he told her.

“And sitting in the kitchen talking to my mom while she makes dinner. I miss her cooking, and just real food.” He could see how hard she was trying to stay strong, but a quiver in her bottom lip gave her away.

“I wish I could give you an answer,” he told her. “But the truth is that I don’t have any at the moment. We’ve all been working really hard to heal the… leak… and make things safe for all of you. But sometimes, no matter how well you patch things up, they’re still never going to be the same. The world you knew may never be the same, and it may never be what you thought it was going to be, but that doesn’t mean it has to be bad. It just means different. And I hope your different is beautiful.”

  
**May 2020**

Hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans, Jack surveyed the damage. The battle with Chuck had been devastating. What he had witnessed during the months he’d spent in what they had previously called “the Apocalypse World” was nothing compared to this. The landscape was barren and burnt: trees had been disintegrated, lakes and rivers drained.

The damage wasn’t on a global scale, not entirely, but far worse than had ever been seen previously. He wasn’t certain of an exact number, but he estimated that the earth’s population was probably no more than half what it had been only a few days earlier. His heart ached for all of those lost. Those he hadn’t saved. 

Dean had always said, “The first rule of hunting is you can’t save them all.” But Dean wasn’t a nephilim; Dean wasn’t the son of an archangel. He was strong, and smart and a hero, but it was different. Jack knew he should have been able to save them all.

He knelt down, and touched a hand to the scorched earth. He remembered a year earlier, kneeling like this in front of Dean, waiting to be killed by the hand of a man he considered a father. Dean couldn’t do it.

But Chuck could.

That didn’t matter now. Chuck was no longer an issue, and it was time to begin the work of rebuilding. 

He dug his fingers into the dirt and kept digging until he had a handful. It was no more than dust. Lifting his hand, and its contents, upwards, he let the dust begin to fall between his fingers, into the dry, stagnant air. Over and over he lifted handfuls of dirt and let them fall, and as he did, the earth became moist, and black and full of life. And that life began to spread outward, and multiply before his eyes. The grass grew green; trees stretched back to their full height, covered in new leaves. In his mind he could see the rivers begin to flow, and the lakes and oceans fill.

It wasn’t enough, but it would have to do for that moment.

Exhausted, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

Over the next days, he kept working, and building, and creating. All the while, the destruction of Heaven weighed heavily on his mind. The few angels that were left had no longer been enough to “keep the lights on” and billions upon billions of souls had fallen from Heaven. He had been able to contain them for now, but he still didn’t know what to do about it.

Heaven had never truly been paradise, only the image of it. Almost every soul there had been lost in a world of their own memories, but in the end, truly alone. It wasn’t right. Rebuilding Heaven as it was before wasn’t the answer.

He missed his home in the Bunker, and the men he still thought of as his fathers. He missed Eileen, who had become part of his family too, since he returned from the Empty. But he didn’t want to go back until he could tell them he had made everything right.

Once everything on Earth was settled, he knew he had to come up with a solution to replace Heaven. As he played with a group of friendly otters, laughing as they tumbled and soared down the water slides he had built in the pond for them, he still had his dilemma in the back of his mind.

Later as he lay dozing under the warm sun, he remembered Castiel’s words again; he was supposed to create paradise on Earth. _Above us only sky…_ the melody and words from a song Castiel used to sing to him danced through his mind as he looked up at the few clouds dotting the otherwise brilliant blue sky.

The one thing he knew about Heaven was that it wasn’t so much a physical place as a state of being. It had existed in its own realm. What if that sort of realm didn’t have to exist elsewhere, but could exist side by side with the realm they knew and in which they lived? What if the souls didn’t have to be segregated but could spend eternity with their loved ones, doing things that they loved… _Heaven… Paradise… but on Earth…_

It was more complicated than rebuilding the Earth. He wanted the souls to be able to watch over their loved ones still alive, but without interfering or being lost. He wanted them to be able to enjoy the fruits of the Earth, without it impacting those still alive, and without actually using up the Earth’s resources - especially since there were so many of them and their numbers would still grow. 

But he worked, and he worked and he shaped and molded. He painted it with light and colour and peace. Still, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. Before he released the souls into their new Earthly paradise, he needed to do one more thing.

Castiel - despite being millennia old - was still trying to come to terms with the events of just the past twelve months. He, Dean, Sam and Eileen had retreated to the safety of the Bunker after the battle with Chuck had ended, waiting anxiously for Jack to return home and once again complete their family. In the meantime, they had worked to repair its most recent damage - a task that seemed mundane in comparison to the renovations that Jack was doing, but which still needed to be done. 

He was repairing the plaster in the kitchen when he heard the flutter of wings behind him and turned to find his son standing before him. His heart full, he ran over to give him a tight hug. Jack hugged him back enthusiastically, but as they released each other Cas noticed that Jack had changed in the time he had been gone. He was more mature, and although he still had his bright smile, there was a sadness in his eyes.

But Jack’s face lit up, and the sadness lifted as he told Cas, “I need to show you something. Will you come with me?”

Cas nodded. “Of course, Jack. Whatever you want.” He thought a little indulgence was in order; the kid had saved the world, after all.

And so with a flash of his wings, Jack took Castiel on a tour of everything he had done, saving what he hoped was the best part for the end.

“Have you given any thought to Heaven’s souls?” Castiel asked, as they looked at a group of dolphins playing in the Pacific Ocean.

“I have,” Jack answered, a huge smile on his face. “I wanted you to be the first to see it.” 

A split second later, they were in his new, not-so-Heavenly realm. Jack gave another nervous smile, and snapped his fingers. Suddenly the realm was full of life - well, afterlife, but there was no need to quibble about details. Castiel looked around, seeing families laughing and friends chatting, and lovers embracing. It looked like Earth, but it was different, and it was so much better than what Jack had shown Castiel before his birth.

“It’s incredible, Jack,” he said slowly, trying to control the emotion in his voice. But then he remembered a time when he wouldn’t have felt any emotion at all, and he let it out in his words. “You’ve done it, Son. You’ve built the most amazing place imaginable… you built Paradise on Earth… I… I am so incredibly proud of you.”

“I’ve talked to some of our friends and family… Mary and John, and Bobby, and Charlie… they’re going to help me keep an eye on things. We don’t need angels to keep it safe. I’ll come back and forth in case there are problems, but… I think it will be okay, don’t you?”

Castiel nodded, his eyes misty. “I think it will be far more than okay, Jack,” he said.

Jack fell into his bed almost as soon as they arrived back at the Bunker, and didn’t wake up until long past breakfast the next morning. He rubbed his eyes, and went out to the library. 

“There’s my boy!” Dean called enthusiastically as Jack entered the room, rubbing his eyes. “We saved you some breakfast.” His eyes twinkled and a smirk played at the corners of his mouth. “It’s in the kitchen. C’mon… I want to see this,” he chuckled, and he slung a casual arm around his son’s shoulders to lead him there.

The two of them walked into the kitchen. Castiel was back to working on the cracked plaster. Sam and Eileen were standing by the sink; it looked as though they were doing dishes. Dean cleared his throat. 

Sam turned his head, picked up a towel and dried his hands. “Uh, Jack… we need to talk about something…” he started to say.

“I know, I shouldn’t have made the purple and green zebracorns but it just seemed so fun at the time!” Jack started to protest.

“Yeah, not that, although yeah, maybe we’ll get to that later… No, I meant this,” he said, and he nudged Eileen gently.

She turned her head to look at Jack, raised an eyebrow and turned the rest of her body around. “Know anything about this?” she asked, motioning towards her large, rounded belly. “Or how I woke up like this today?”

Jack blushed. “Well, Dean told me that when a man and a woman…” he stammered, “…and you and Sam…”

Sam’s eyes widened and he held up a hand to stop Jack from saying any more. “I realize that we… that it… but well… this doesn’t usually happen quite so fast.”

Jack gave a sheepish shrug. “I guess maybe I might have been thinking about wanting a baby brother or sister before I went to sleep last night.” He told them. “You aren’t happy about it?” he asked, a perplexed look on his face.

“It’s not that,” Eileen said, looking up at Sam, who smiled down at her. “We just aren’t exactly prepared for this so… soon. How do you figure out a due date for a pregnancy that arrived like this?” she asked, rubbing her hands protectively over her new belly.

“Oh, I think you have another few months,” Jack said. “I think you just look so huge… I mean… big… I mean… like that… because there’s two of them.”

All four of the adults’ eyes widened in unison. “Two?” Sam asked, looking even more panicked.

It took Eileen a moment to process this new information. “I went to bed last night, perfectly normal, and today I woke up very, very pregnant _with twins?_ ” She paused for a moment then looked Jack directly in the eye. “Jack, I love you very very much, but I am going to KILL YOU…” she said, starting towards him.

He looked at her belly and then grinned at her. “You’re going to have to catch me first!” he shouted, and he took off for the library.

From over by the cracked wall, Castiel watched as Eileen tried to run, but more waddled after the wayward nephilim. Despite the day’s surprise, he felt like now, finally, all was right with the world.

Jack had created Paradise on Earth.


End file.
